@rcliicta's alice has been invited to the garden...
She tasted like raspberry jam and honey, sweet, sharp, decadent, the hare's fingers tangling in the tresses of lemon that clung as he held her in place. Down to the crook of her neck as calloused hands smoothed over her shoulders, a low growl of irritation in his throat when it didn't slide down the way he wanted it to. Left or right, left or right, a hard yank tore the fabric, jars rattling on the cupboard shelves.
Teeth scraped over skin, leaving pink in their wake, a blush of outrage that was slow to fade. Lower still to sink teeth into the swell of her breast as he pinned her hands to the shelf behind her. Hearing the creak as she held on, straining to stay in place, his hips rocked forward.
'Sweet Alice...'
Hands spanning her waist, lower to her hips to squeeze as he skimmed his nose upwards. Say yes, Alice. Say please, we have manners after all. The way she begged did terrible things to him, and he'd been aching through their jaunt in the woods, the rambling massacre of a tale by the Tweedles. But now she was all his, just his, rucking up her skirt as he let her pull and tug until their mouths met again, the kiss a harsh pressure, possessive, needy.
Cesar!
'I'm sorry?' What had she been asking, something about... 'Ah, yes I would love some mustard for my toast, thank you Alice.'
